; night-mother
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									                                        'night Mother
                                      by Marsha Norman

Mama, I only told you I was going to kill myself so I could explain it, so you wouldn't
blame yourself, so you wouldn't feel bad. There wasn't anything you could say to change
my mind. I didn't want you to save me. I just wanted you to know. Don't you see, Mama,
everything I do winds up like this. How could I think you would understand? How could
I think you would want a manicure? That we could hold hands for an hour and then I
could go shoot myself? I'm sorry about tonight, Mama, but it's exactly why I'm doing it.
I'm not giving up! This is the other thing I'm trying. And I'm sure there are some other
things that might work, but might work isn't good enough any more. I need something
that will work. This will work. That's why I picked it. Mama, listen. I am not your child, I
am what became of your child. I found an old baby picture of me. And it was somebody
else, not me. It was somebody pink and fat who never heard of sick or lonely, somebody
who cried and got fed,, and reached up and got held and kicked but didn't hurt anybody,
and slept whenever she wanted to, just by closing her eyes. Somebody who mainly just
laid there and laughed at the colors waving around over her head and chewed on a polka-
dot whale and woke up knowing some new trick nearly every day and rolled over and
drooled on the sheet and felt your hand pulling my quilt back up over me. That's who I
started out and this is who is left. (There is no self-pity here) That's what this is about. It's
somebody I lost, all right, it's my own self. Who I never was. Or who I tried to be and
never got there. Somebody I waited for who never came. And never will. So, see, it
doesn't much matter what else happens in the world or in this house, even. I'm what was
worth waiting for and I didn't make it. Me...who might have made a difference to me...I'm
not going to show up, so there's no reason to stay, except to keep you company, and
that's...not reason enough because I'm not...very good company. (A pause) Am I? Just let
me go, Mama, let me go easy.

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